My Life is Theirs to Take
by Rose.A.Harvey
Summary: It's the Quarter Quell, as a reminder to the rebels that there is no way out from the wrath of the Capital, no volunteers are allowed. When Prim's name is pulled from the Reaping Ball she has no choice but to enter the Games. The odds aren't in her favour, but with help from a fellow tribute will she make it home to her family?


-Prim-

I wake up but keep my eyes closed. I snuggle into the crook of my mother's arm and try to think of nothing. It doesn't work. Today is the day of the Reaping. Today, two people will be taken away from District 12 and chances are, they won't be coming home alive. This year, I'm twelve years old, my sister, Katniss, wouldn't let me sign up for tesserae, so my name is only entered once. I'm as safe as you can get, but even that does little to rid the pit in my stomach. I hear Katniss stir and get up. Her hand brushes my cheek softly and Buttercup, my cat hisses at her. After a moment the front door opens and closes, she's going hunting, and to see her best friend Gale. No-one says it, but everyone knows that they'll get married. Rory and Vick argue about how long it's going to take for Gale to 'pop the question.'. I sit up and scratch Buttercup between his ears and he purrs. Mother doesn't stir, so I slide out of bed and fill our kettle with water and set it over the stove. It's silent outside because no-one has to work today. The Reaping doesn't start until 10, people don't come out until 9:30, they sleep in. If they can.

Mother groans and sits up. She stares off into the distance and I leave her for a moment while I pour tea. We won't have any food until Katniss gets back, but we have plenty of tea leaves.

"It's today isn't it?" Mother asks.

I nod and hand her a cup. She wraps her fingers around it and sips almost thoughtfully, but she doesn't think. To be honest, Katniss has been more a mother to me than my mother since our father died. I walk over to his mirror and polish it, he always hated the layer of coal that covered it and everything else in the Seam. Making tea, cleaning father's mirror, it was all part of my daily ritual. I finish polishing and open the draw and pull out a comb. I always brushed and plaited mother's hair in the morning, and today was no exception, but when I turned to face the bed, she was gone.

"Mother?"

She walks out of Katniss's room with a small bundle of clothes in her arms and black shoes hanging from the crook of her arm.

"Have a bath."

I look at her for a moment then nod. If she wanted to take care of me then that's fine by me.

* * *

After my bath I see a white blouse and grey skirt has been laid out for me. I shudder as I pull them on. This was Katniss's first Reaping outfit.

"I'll do your hair if you like." Mother says quietly.

I sit on a stool and she pulls the comb through my wet hair gently. She braids it similar to how Katniss usually has hers, but twists it into a bun at the nape of my neck. She draws back and bends to tie up my shoes and I touch the bun tentatively.

"Thank you."

She smiles.

"You look beautiful." Katniss walks in, her bag full of game and makes be turn a circle. "But you'd better tuck in that tail little duck."

"Quack." I say.

She laughs, it's both beautiful and precious, because it doesn't happen very often. "Quack yourself."

"I laid something out for you too." Mother says quietly.

"Did you find my cheese?" I ask as Katniss goes to take a bath.

"Yes. Gale says thank you."

She closes the door and all I can do is sit and wait. I chew on some mint, not really tasting it, but just looking for something to do. It's unlikely that my name will be drawn, I know that. The odds are entirely in my favor, but there's something sinister about this day, even more than usual. I'm terrified, for myself, for Katniss and for Gale. It's more likely that Katniss's name will be pulled out, but I can't think like that. It's unthinkable. Katniss has always been more than a sister. She's my best friend, my sister, my mother, my savior, my rock, all rolled into one. I've been incredibly lucky to have someone like her to take care of me. Without her I'd have died of starvation. We all would have. If she went into the Games, she'd probably have a good chance of coming home. And suddenly I find myself thinking, not about Katniss, but about the Games themselves.

The Games are always awful, but this year, they are worse. It's the Quarter Quell, the 75th anniversary of the Hunger Games beginning. Every twenty five years, some awful twist is added to the Games. I've never been alive for one, but District 12's only living victor was the Victor of the 50th Hunger Games. Haymitch Abernathy, town drunk. To be honest, he's the only person who could afford to be drunk full-time. Another reason he is despised, with his money and food, he could keep the whole district alive. District 12 has the smallest population by far, he'd have no trouble keeping us in food, but instead he holes himself up in his house, dead to the world, I've only ever seen him on Reaping day, though Katniss says she sometimes sees him around the Hob.

Katniss steps out in a blue dress, one of mother's old ones, and black shoes like mine, her hair tumbles over her shoulders. Mother steps forwards tentatively.

"I can do your hair for you." She raises the comb slightly. Katniss never really forgave her for tuning out after father died and refuses any offer of help. But today is different. Today, the unthinkable could happen. Today, I could be taken to my death.


End file.
